Moved
by sansbear
Summary: A snapshot into the deepening feelings between Jeremy and Bonnie.
1. Drawn

**A/N: **This is a thought that just had to be realized. Bonnie's POV is next. And while I'm still a Bamon fan, I'm kind of crushing on Jeremy and Bonnie. They turned it up this week. Enjoy.

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To be drawn is something Jeremy has felt before. He was drawn to Vicki Donovan because she was as fucked up as he was. He was drawn to Anna because of her mystery and later, because of what she offered.

And now, staring at Bonnie as blood drips down her nose, he is more than drawn. He is afraid. His fear is so palpable every muscle in his body is tense, even his tongue. The prospect of being killed by the psycho vampire chick isn't as real as the prospect of Bonnie hemorrhaging to death.

He is more than drawn when Stefan yanks him from Katherine and to Bonnie. They are on the ground, staring in horror at the mouth of cave, and Jeremy is momentarily stunned to know and not know her arms are pulling him to her, on her, over her, away from the that horror. His relief comes from the tension in her grip and the rapid rise and fall of her chest against his back.

When Bonnie brings him home, Jeremy understands something must happen. Something has to happen. She keeps looking at him, analyzing him. He feels her gaze even when she averts her eyes from his face, from his eyes and his lips and his neck. So instead of being drawn, of passively following the tug of the line, he moves of his own accord. He goes to her, saying things to draw _her_ to _him_, to rid them both of whatever guilt may arise out of more than platonic feelings.

Something does happen. She takes a fraction of a step closer and he can't help but to be _moved_. Moved off his center, thrown of his balance, flung off into space. Her sigh is small and his head drops. For all the times he has kissed a girl, he has never wanted to kiss one as badly. He has never needed.

Time slows and then with a hard click resumes its fluidity. The inevitable happens—he is unable to move her. The loss as she walks around him does not leave him bereft but fills him with a stinging pain he tries to soothe with long droughts of cool air. He can feel her by the door, opening it, pausing, and the hope that she changed her mind and will come to him is the most painful sensation his chest has felt. It is almost unbearable, he almost sinks beneath the dueling weight of loss and hope, when a light touch skims his neck and fingers the hair at his nape. He turns but is alone.


	2. Known

**A/N: **Bonnie's POV. I might continue this as a a missing scene type of thing. Enjoy and thank you guys for the reviews.

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She never saw him before until the night of the masquerade. Ironically they had on masks and were in one of those impossible situations that were fast becoming regular and suddenly, like light filling a dark room, there was Jeremy Gilbert, tall, dark, and disturbingly, distractingly handsome.

Bonnie should have known. She curses herself as she drives him home. She should have known the second he stood in front of her on the lawn in his suit and announced he was no longer the kid brother. She should have known when her heart began to rise when he glanced at her. Her eyes slide over to his bleeding neck and she sighs. She should have known.

She is wary of him as he stalks into the house ahead of her, angry. She is angry too. Drawing Luka's power wasn't enough to open the tomb, meaning the fault resides in _her_ and no one else. She isn't strong enough. How is she supposed to protect the people she cares for if she can't get through a spell without fainting?

They have words and all she keeps seeing is the blood on his neck. She feels his weight in her arms and he is heavy, but he is breathing and warm and the relief that Jeremy, not Elena's brother, not some kid she's known since he was a general terror, is alive almost washes away the sharp sense of incompetence. Almost. The white bandage is a reminder of her failure.

So when Jeremy talks about her getting hurt and she sees the firm set of his face, Bonnie curses herself again because her heart rises. He cannot feel this way about her because she cannot feel this way about him. She cannot have any room for an emotion that might pale in comparison to all the others. So, when he palms her face, she allows it. When he presses his forehead against hers, she allows it. She knows what will happen next. He will kiss her and then her heart will swallow her whole. When his lips hover, it takes a fortitude she's been saving to say no. She would like to tell him maybe they'd be happy for a week, maybe they'd beat all the odds and be together long into a hazy future, but too much has happened to the both of them to want to be a 'them'. She settles on a shaky "I can't," and "I'm sorry."

Bonnie stops at the door to look at him. Jeremy touches the bandage on his neck with a frown of pain. In a perfect world, free of failure and nose bleeds and homicidal vampire bitches, she would not leave him frowning. If she were strong enough, she would go to him, skim her hand over the back of his neck and let her fingers disappear into his hair and put her face on his shoulder and be content with being overwhelmed. Looking at him now, she should have known. She leaves before she sacrifices something more.


	3. Typical

**A/N:** Shared perspective on the latest (brief) scene.

**Disclaimer**: Not mine.

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Jeremy has practiced stoic since she walked out the door. He expected his resolve to crumble the moment he saw her but shit, when have any of his expectations come true? His surprise barely registers when their eyes connect. Damn if her presence or her wide eyes don't affect him.

Bonnie is flustered, that much he can tell and her eyes admit. She neglected to fortify herself against the (high) probability of seeing him so soon. Maybe, and this thought flits across her features, tightening her mouth and softening her eyes, she didn't because the typical Jeremy response would be head-on confrontation, pressure from all sides, staunch refusal to match her rather hesitant one. And she could definitely deal with that and reduce what he felt into some trite phase. But he does no such thing. He stands there in the doorway, a man breaking through the blackness of his eyes to look at her.

Jeremy follows her jerky movements with his mouth shut. Something has changed in him, something died in him when he did what he did. He's been rejected before, been played, played back, done all that but he's never done this. He's never stood there, an immovable object, a force you either collide into or avoid. He won't lie to himself—seeing Bonnie squeezes his gut into an origami square. He keeps his mouth shut because he might say something to get Elena out of the room. From there he might say her name in a soft way that comes with a caress and an expelled breath. God knows it would be much easier to do the typical thing.

His eyes are too focused so she cuts short the conversation and rushes past him. For a second she thinks he might angle his body away to give her room but he stays. She flows around him, holding her breath because to breathe would mean to acquiesce. _To what? _A flash of brushing knuckles answers this current needling question.

There's only so much stoicism Jeremy can maintain. He angles his head towards Bonnie as she slides around him and the mask slips. His brow furrows, his thoughts become tangled in touching her and containing himself, in doing what he knows and practicing what he doesn't. Bonnie makes the choice for him—she disappears, leaving Jeremy more of a hardened mess than before.

Thirty minutes later she sneaks a glance at him sitting on the stairs. He has an elbow on one knee and a hand propping up his head. Jeremy smiles against his fingers in such a way that makes her want to press a kiss right at the uncovered hook of his mouth. Her eyes follow his back to a flailing Elena. The reluctant pride at creating an invisible barrier melts away.


	4. Apologies

**A/N: **Continuing with the Bonnie/Jeremy flesh out. Since I have no clue how they went from being all tense around each other to flashing smiles and whispering over soft drinks, I figured I'd insert a step. Missing scene for "Daddy Issues". Enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **In no way do I profit from, or am I affiliated with, Vampire Diaries and co.

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Bonnie sits in her car, drumming the steering wheel. Make-up is perfect, lips are shiny, hair is good, her purse and books are in the easiest position for grabbing and going, but she stares into the rearview mirror, waiting. Waiting because she hasn't seen him pull up yet and she can't, alright won't, get out of her car until he is inside the building. She is not going to do this again. Today is a new day. Today is 'Bonnie will not look like a sputtering fish because she accidentally ran into Jeremy for the umpteenth time' day. Today is the day she will not, if she happens to run into him between classes, have any incomprehensible urges to utter, "I'm sorry."

Saying sorry is not an option. Sorry for what exactly? For not kissing him? For not falling into the trap of an uber romance a la Stefan and Elena? For not chucking caution (and vampires and moonstones and werewolves and _witchy business_) to the wind? Why exactly should she, Bonnie Bennett, apologize? Bonnie tenses as a black SUV drives by and parks a couple of spaces down. She relaxes when a girl climbs out and rushes to the doors of the school. First period starts in ten minutes. A little longer for idiocy. And to create a fact check.

Nothing is different. He is still Elena's brother. Little brother. Elena is still her best friend. She is still a witch, albeit a mediocre one. The facts remain the same but somehow the neat compartments they come in have warped and are either too small or too large. Fact: Jeremy is Elena's little brother. Truth: Jeremy isn't so little. Fact: he always cared about her and she for him on a platonic level. Truth: platonic levels sometimes evolved into not-so platonic, murky, and damn confusing levels. Fact: he has always been around. Truth: she has become aware of his being around. Maybe, maybe that is a reason to say something closely related to an apology. Maybe.

Bonnie gives it up after five minutes. She collects her books and purse and hurries across the lawn and up the steps into the school. The bell for first period starts to ring and she quickly strides down the hall, up the staircase and towards the already closed door of her first period Pre Calculus class when there's a shadow, a body, and a collision. Everything not attached to her person crashes to the ground and she follows, bending and scooping and saying a rushed, "I'm sorry."

"You are possibly the clumsiest person I know."

So the universe is against her. Good to know. She places the universe beneath 'Damon' and 'bad hair' on the life-long apathy list. Jeremy bends and their hands dance over each other as the mess straightens and clears. They rise at the same time. Bonnie takes her purse and Latin binder from him before allowing herself to look up. He looks down into her face with that pensive, searching stare and all the air goes out of her, all the thinking, processing, dissecting, dodging air that kept her a few feet off the plane of reason. The breath after is rejuvenating.

"Isn't it strange how we keep doing this?" she asks.

"Not so strange," he says. There is a moment of tension and then, like some kind of miracle, he grins, obviously amused. It is a real grin, devoid of subtext. It is infectious and soon she is grinning. He runs a quick hand through his hair, messing it all up, and she is relieved.

When he asks her if she wants to accompany him on an essay retrieval mission, Bonnie doesn't hesitate.


	5. Phases

**A/N:** You know the deal. Jeremy's POV on the kiss. I want to thank the reader for, of course, reading, and the reviewers for reviewing, and the alerters for alerting. Like many authors on this site, my only bread and butter is your continued support and acknowledgment. Enjoy.

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Jeremy gets it. When Caroline starts talking about Bonnie's sex smile, he more than gets it. He has become adept at understanding, at climbing in the back seat, shutting the hell up, and just going with it. Bonnie leans into Luka's smile with such ease Jeremy forgets, for a nanosecond, that she's acting. He is unloading Luke from the backseat of Bonnie's car when he realizes she never leans into any of his smiles. Which is completely appropriate since she is determined to not view him as anything other than a friend. Not that it is deterring his view of her as possibly the hottest girl he has ever laid eyes on.

And she is hot. She has several degrees of hotness he struggles to classify on any given day. Her crooked smile is infectious. Her eyes are always animated, changing. She's small, but he's been on the receiving end of a few of her scuffs and damn, can she hit hard. But when she blinks and all the candles are lit, the glow showcasing the sheer confidence on her face, he is awestruck. This girl that is his sister's best friend, this girl he's known since he had snot running down his nose, this girl is _magic. _She is power.

His admiration grows warmer as the room brightens. He nearly stumbles over himself when she asks him for a bowl of water. They are finally getting back to semi normal and he has to start throwing words like _magic _and _awestruck_ around. It will never happen, there are too many factors that could go wrong, too many obstacles in the way of getting Bonnie to admit, just admit, that there's more there. How many times does he have to get burned before he really, honest to God, holy-shit-this-is-a-third-degree-burn accepts it? And where the hell where the bowls in this damn kitchen?

Time speeds up the moment Bonnie dips her hands into the water. The hope of Elena surviving decreased to less than half the minute Bonnie lifted her eyes to him. He gulped down instinctive words of comfort, perversely saving them for himself. Jeremy wishes to go back to the exact moment he chose to chase the truth and instead choose ignorance. A year ago vampires were confined to the movies. Now to kill the oldest vampire in creation his sister needed to die. Jeremy half-listens to the discussion of the next course of action in Operation Keep Elena Alive. They talk like generals in some kind of defunct army. He collects the candles and places them in his pack. His bag will smell like vanilla and gardenias. A soft pang slows his movements. In war, there is no room for romance.

Resiliency is key in an otherwise hopeless situation. Jeremy is back to his adopted role—friend, confidante, fellow go-gettter. He makes some sarcastic crack about Caroline dropping Luka and continues to the front door when Bonnie says, "Wait." She looks at him with a mixture of apprehension and expectation. He's expecting some spell-related revelation and is slightly put off by her reminder, "You're Elena's little brother." Yes, he hasn't forgotten. She continues with a succinct summary of his high school personas. He laughs when she mentions his druggie phase, partly because it is ridiculous to look back at all the roles he inhabited and compare them to the man he was now, or at least becoming. And as his laugh quiets and her nervousness increases, he marks the exact moment his adopted role is nullified. It is the breath she takes to say, "And now you're this hot guy that's really sweet," that transforms the conversation into one between a boy and a girl. He catches her slip, turns it into an act or do not act test wrapped in a joke. When Bonnie falls into the fluster of reluctant self-convincing that it is _wrong_, he acts.

"Enough already," Jeremy says. He doesn't shut her up. She's still communicating but her lips move with his, and her hand is on his neck, and this is them, talking.

Jeremy pulls back, praying to God she stays in place instead of wiping her mouth and running off with some half-hearted words.

"Wow," Bonnie breathes.

The next time they kiss, it is a sure kiss. It is an exploration of potentialities, a working promise on something more.


	6. Rest

**A/N**: Whoa, it's been a long time. Since Beremy has seen its end, I'm posting the rest of 'Moved' as a sort of elegy to the couple. Enjoy.

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Bonnie shuts herself in the bathroom. She stares at her reflection for a moment. Despair turns her eyes dark and face puffy. She splashes cold water on her stinging cheeks and neck. Martin's fingers still dig into her cheeks and along her jawbone. The cold absence of power isn't nearly as a terrible as the searing sensation of losing it.

Fury brings instant tears to her eyes. Bonnie takes a towel and scrubs her face until the skin is numb. If she had her power, no one would be safe. Fire would consume everything, eat and eat until she was satisfied. She would be the one to make him powerless, make him plead, make him fall to his knees, impotent. The towel twists in her hands as she stares into space. The thought of revenge balloons into a self-contained plan, a plan that collapses when the mirror doesn't shatter and the candles don't whoosh and melt.

The anger leaves Bonnie as quickly as it came. The cold returns, only sharper and more desperate. She can't do anything now. She is human, now. Human. The relief to accompany this once desired state is nowhere to be had. To be human is to be weak, at a constant disadvantage. She didn't have two vampire brothers watching her every step. She didn't have an Original for quasi-protection. All she had was power, magic, and now—Bonnie exhales a sob. Her hands shake. More tears as another wave of devastation crests and breaks. Her mirror image looks wild and pathetic as it struggles to swallow the cries.

"Bonnie?" Elena's voice. There's a knock. The door handle twists. Bonnie hastens to the switch and snuffs out the light. She hides behind the door as it opens, pale lamplight spilling into the room. She doesn't breathe for the fifteen seconds it takes for Elena to frown at the empty darkness.

"I thought she was in here. I guess she left," Elena says as the door closes. Bonnie puts her face in her hands. So Stefan knows too. And Damon would know soon. His jeering, mocking smile already turns her stomach.

The prospect of facing them all—Elena and her sympathy, Stefan mirroring Elena, Caroline's worried eyes, Alaric's pained expression, and Damon's derision—Bonnie wants to disappear into the air, float far from Mystic Falls, float to some place that knows nothing of witches and vampires and werewolves.

She wants Grams to shield her, Grams to help her, Grams to lend her strength. She's alone in this. Alone, and human.

Bonnie goes to the other door. She listens. It's dead silent in his room. She wipes her eyes and tries to compose herself as best she can before leaving the bathroom.

Jeremy leans off the desk. Bonnie falls back against the doorjamb. They stare at each other in the dark. Every passing moment Bonnie looks at his face, the ache becomes less and more.

"I know you're not okay," Jeremy says. He takes a step towards her. "And I know how much being a witch meant to you, so I'll spare you that apology. But I promise you, we'll find a way to get your power back."

Bonnie shook her head. "It's impossible. He's stronger than me, and—"

"And nothing," Jeremy cuts in. He reaches out and runs a hand up and down her arm. "There's always a way, Bonnie."

His earnest words break her down. She cries into his shirt, heedless of his arms surrounding her. He holds her like that for what seem like hours.

"What do you wannna do?" Jeremy asks when she starts to breathe in soft, even tones.

"I want to sleep."

Jeremy leads her to his bed. Bonnie drops to the pillow like a stone through water. She turns her face into his scent. Soap, detergent, and the faint spice of cologne. A heavy comforter covers her and Bonnie waits for the bed to sink with his weight.

She turns over and holds out a hand to his fidgeting standing form. Jeremy takes it and she pulls him onto the bed, covering the both of them with the comforter. She settles against him, his weight comfortable on her arm and his breathing in her ear. He kisses her jaw and she kisses the inside of his neck. She falls asleep with him, relieved. And human.


	7. Spells

She touches him and he feels it. The magic. The draw. She inhales as he exhales. A smile blooms, opens up her entire face. He gazes at her, cups her face as if holding some rare flower, and reads her lips as she whispers, "_My power._"

They sit on the floor in her room, knees touching. Candles levitate; the flames are bright and still. It is both parts awesome and romantic, at least for him. For her it's like coming home. He watches the happiness clear the terror from her eyes and the lines from her face.

He wants to speak but she kisses him. The words flee. This is a moment, rare as they are, where they are content, where there are no monsters pounding at the door and no problem so mammoth it seems impossible. They kiss and it is endless.

Until it isn't.

Damon carries her up to the porch. Jeremy looks at him a moment, too angry to remember this man is a vampire who has killed him once already and has threatened to do it again on multiple occasions. The sight of Bonnie's arm flailing in the dim moonlight brings back the terrible reality of who they are and what they face.

Wordless, Bonnie exchanges arms. She does not move, does not breathe. Jeremy turns towards the decrepit plantation house.

"She said she'd wake up. Eventually."

There's a glimmer of feeling in Damon's eye, an apology, maybe even something close to fear. An apology for what, and to whom? Elena, probably. The fear is about her, too.

"If eventually never happens, you wouldn't care, would you? Just another casualty, as long as it isn't Elena."

Jeremy shifts the dead weight in his arms and goes into the house. He heads to the subterranean room Bonnie cleared out for her communion with the old witches and sets her down on a pellet. He lights all the candles in the room, all hundred of them. As he lights the candles, all hundred of them, he creates his own spell. She'll wake up when the last one is lit, her breath will be the shuddering spark of a flame. At the last candle Jeremy hesitates. He's not a witch, warlock, whatever. This is foolish, but…he lights the candle and turns to the pellet. Bonnie lies in the same position he left her, eyes closed, breathless.

The hours pass. Jeremy looks at his watch. No, only fifteen minutes have passed. Fifteen minutes of sitting on a dusty wooden floor and staring at her face. He massages the small, soft, cold hand. He stares. And thinks about today. They coordinated their outfits for the stupid sixties dance. He laughed at her white go-go boots and she called him Austin. They made out in his car, twice. They danced, drunk spiked punch, danced some more, then Klaus and the vampire shitstorm hit and his girlfriend hatched a plan with her No. 2 nemesis without batting an eye.

Jeremy exhales and lifts her hand to his lips. He kisses her knuckles with a sigh. His cell phone rings and he gets up to answer it. A sharp intake of breath propels him forward as Bonnie rears up, coughing. He grabs a water bottle and gathers her up. She drinks, takes a breath, and squints at him.

"Did it work?"

Jeremy kisses her instead of answering. Bonnie drops the bottle and pulls him down on top of her. She is warm and alive and her hands are hotter than his skin.

Afterwards, when Elena is reassured and relieved and the darkest part of the night dims even the brightest candles, they lay on the pellet, limbs entwined.

"I have only one request," Jeremy says in between slow kisses.

"Hmm?"

"Let me know next time you and Damon decide to tag team it?"

Bonnie grins and brushes his cheekbones with her thumbs. "But I'm making it up to you."

"So you won't?"

"Depends. If it increases the danger quotient then chances are…" Her words trail off into his frown. Bonnie quickly presses her lips to his.

"I'm here. You're here. We've secured a slight victory. Carpe diem, baby, yeah."

Jeremy fights the smile and loses. "You're an idiot."

"You love it."

He looks into her eyes for a long time. "I do."


End file.
